Your Heart Is An Empty Room
by emerald-soco
Summary: You've had a long day, a sick dog, and everybody knows how these things come in threes. A series of Derekdrabbles throughout tonight's 430 episode.


Disclaimer: Title, not mine. Characters, not mine. Idea, mine, but I'm sure a thousand others have it and could do it better. Don't forget to leave a review!

**Your Heart Is An Empty Room**

You lay in bed, tired from so much more than lack of sleep, and think of how ironic your life has become. Addison is sprawled next to you, your bare legs tangled beneath the sheets, and it is exactly where you were trying to hard not to be when you moved out here.

All last year, you pretended not to be married. You tucked your ring away in a drawer, you bought your own land, you flirted with a pretty girl and went back to her place.

And now here you are, pretending to be married again. You live with Addison, share space and razors and meals with her, but you just don't feel like one half of a whole anymore. You don't feel whole at all.

The ironic part of it all is this: when you were with Meredith, it didn't feel anything like pretending.

XXX

You have terrific bedside manner, everyone has always said so. There's never been a patient you can't handle. But now there is a lawyer whose body shakes with the knowledge that something is wrong and you cannot take being in the same room with her.

There is too much honesty in her symptoms.

She slides her glasses down her nose and reads you like a book. It annoys you that she can diagnose your problem far more easily than you can find hers. You're supposed to be the expert; this is your domain.

So you assign the case to the interns and avoid the room and avoid the truth that peers at you over the rim of those damn glasses. She knows how to fix you and you know it, too, but there is one difference – she is willing to do the work and you are not.

XXX

You envy the ease with which Gwen makes her decision. She identifies the problem, finds the solution, and exercises it. You recognize something in that determined squaring of the shoulders, the quick wink she tosses you while she explains herself.

Once upon a time, you too had just the right balance of determination and luck. You're not sure which one left you first.

Gwen says she is willing to sacrifice what she has always done, the only thing she's ever known, if there is the chance of something better. There is hope in that, for both of you.

But again, that crucial difference: she walks out of the hospital doors without looking back. You step off the elevator and veer away from Meredith, even though she's headed in the same direction you wanted to go, and instead check in with your wife.

XXX

You've had a long day, a sick dog, and everybody knows these things come in threes. So it shouldn't even surprise you when Meredith appears on the stairs, her hair wet and tumbled, her clothes not her own.

It does, anyway. Unless it's in an X-ray, you never see the deadly things coming. You're about to fly into a jealous rage when you realize angry, betrayed husband is not your role in this melodrama.

And you remember that you've been called to read that script before, and never could you have done it with such terrible accuracy.

She acts normal, so you take your cues from her. You clear your throat and focus on Doc and ignore the burning at the backs of your eyelids. Your wife slept with your best friend in your own bed and you feel more betrayed by the way Meredith brushes past you to assist Finn.

XXX

You stumble out of the shower, all sweaty exhaustion and satiated need, and catch your reflection in the mirror. You don't recognize the face you see. Steam floats up through the air, blurring your vision and distorting your features.

Addison calls your name from the bedroom, eager for another round, but you lean closer to the glass. Swiping the condensation from the surface doesn't help. Something is still not right.

It becomes a challenge, to find what is missing. After all, you are a doctor, trained to spot the tiniest abnormality, the smallest malfunction. You should be able to determine how you have changed.

Addison calls out again and you glare one last time at the man you've become before turning away. You don't realize that your eyes used to be such a brighter shade of blue.


End file.
